


Into Each Life, Some Rain Must Fall

by Imawfulatusernames



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Minor Character Death, Multi, Romance, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imawfulatusernames/pseuds/Imawfulatusernames
Summary: There is a reason the Elders erase Whitelighter’s memories. It isn’t only so they are more loyal to the cause and their witches, but so they do not remember the cycle of their soul.Harry and Macy’s lives have touched before in dark and troubled times during the Second World War.





	1. I'll Be Seeing You

**Author's Note:**

> A weird combination of “The Crown” and “Charmed” and a light watch of “The Man in the High Castle” over a long holiday break made this possible. Enjoy!

_**London, 1944** _

 

“It’s classified information, Sutherland. Don’t be daft.” 

 

“For God's Sake, you always know what’s happening before even the Prime Minister knows. One clue Greenwood? I’ll take your next round if you do!” 

 

“Churchill can hear you always, you know. Like a pissed Father Christmas.” He took a drink hoping Sutherland would leave him alone. 

 

“What do you know then? A new assignment after all these years? It must be something significant. And with Americans! A woman! You’re a lucky bastard.” Patrick Sutherland nudged his friend and called for another round to the bartender. 

 

“It’s on him.” Sutherland nodded his head towards his friend. 

 

Harry Greenwood wasn’t used to being the full center of attention. It had been 2 years since he joined the British Service after years of being in plays as secondary characters and one line mentions in reviews after graduating from university and serving in the Home Guard.  He had proven himself a loyal and steadfast member of His Majesty's Royal Army. The war was still raging, but there seemed to be a glimmer of hope of some end in sight. Not enough to let one’s guard down, but enough to take in a pre-nightly stroll and a cup of tea with slight ease. 

 

Harry had a purpose, and that was enough. He had been working with classified information in code breaking and Axis research. His role was to communicate information from codebreakers to officers in occupied areas on their work focus and on how to help in the Western Front. He had direct communication with codebreakers at Bletchley Park, but felt isolated in London as one of few stationed there. He was a middle man at best. Not a Mathematician to break codes, nor a contact to deliver the information in dangerous locations. A messenger and nothing more.  But, his feelings were of little matter. Any code break would be able to help save lives and end the war.

 

It was a Autumn day when he was told his focus would be shifted to more classified manners. Brigadier Barker, a man very high in command and reputation, asked to meet Harry.  

 

“Greenwood, come in come in.” Barker motioned Harry to sit down in the burgundy leather chair in the office. 

 

“Sir? You asked for me to see you? Urgent manner?” Harry could feel the back of his neck start to sweat. 

 

“Yes, we have a new assignment that is more...collaborative in nature.” Barker narrowed his eyes.

 

“Sir?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

 

“Intrigued, I see. Yes, we have seen how communication is your forte. We have an assignment that we think best suit someone with your skill set. The Americans have uncovered sets of coded information that one of their officers are working on deciphering. They need someone who has connections and a knowledge of London contacts to be able to fill in the gaps. We thought of you, naturally.” Barker motioned off the idea as fact rather than an option. 

 

“Oh?” Americans needed British help? And were openly admitting it? This must be of grave importance. Harry was indeed intrigued. 

 

“I’ll be blunt as well. You have a tendency to be less...provincial shall we say than some of the other officers in your ranks. You would be able to work in unusual circumstances.” Barker cleared his throat. 

 

“That’s very kind of you, sir. It must have been the years of theatre. Opens one to new worlds.”  Harry immediately regretted any attempt at banter. 

 

“Fine fine. Well, you would be working with a member of the newly integrated American Women’s Army Corps. One member in particular has been making quite a stir with her skills in mathematics and linguistics. She was able to code 100 poems used to share information with American soldiers fighting in Paris. They have yet to be discovered by the Germans.” Barker sounded impressed. 

 

Harry smiled slightly. The idea that this person had a bit of a secret romantic streak to use poems as codes tickled him. 

 

“Greenwood? Do you accept?” Barker had little time for dilly dally. 

 

“Of course, Sir. When do we start?” Harry rose from his seat. 

 

“Well, Miss Vargas arrives tomorrow. Marceline Vargas of Michigan." 

 

“Well I look forward to working with Miss Vargas.” 

 

“Splendid. You start tomorrow bright and early.” Barker opened the door and shook Harry’s hand.  

 

“Thank you again, sir.” 

 

Harry felt a jolt of change in his step as he left Barker’s office. A renewed sense of self and meaning filled him. It was easy to get bogged down in everyday trudge of paper pushing without significant result besides bodies of broken men and women. Neither did it help to come home to an empty flat with creaking pipes as the only voice of comfort every night. War brings little pleasures or joy. Everyday is a push to get through and to carry on with any hope of survival. 

 

Humans are unlikely adaptable creatures. They find new normals and new reasons for waking as the sun rises. Harry’s hope was for the future and what it would promise. A new stage in the West End. An end to the rations. All his hometown friends returning unharmed. His brother’s death having a moment of meaning besides pain. Something for all the suffering to end and to reach peace even if it was fleeting. 


	2. “Would You Like to Take a Walk?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Macy’s first meeting doesn’t go exactly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter! It’s something I hope the show explores since past lives are so much fun to write. This is my little version of events.

The daylight of the morning came suddenly. Harry woke up and ran though his usual routine. He made breakfast and tea for one as he read the paper. Everything was as usual. 

 

He walked along the streets of London, into the office, and was immediately rushed into a new wing of the building he had never been privy to before by Brigadier Barker.

 

“Good Morning, Greenwood. Miss Vargas already arrived and is waiting in the special collections library.” 

 

There, in this library, he saw her for the first time.

 

She was sitting examining multiple books at once. Her eyes darted from one to the other and once she found a way to a new fact, she smiled to herself. She was completely unaware some random man just walked in.

 

“Ah, Miss Vargas, I hope you were not waiting too long. This is Officer Greenwood. You’ll be working with him for this assignment.”

 

She was striking inside and out as she walked towards him. Her dark curly hair tied in a low rolled bun and her face perfectly lovely. Aside from her beauty, he sensed something familiar in her. As if he could feel she had lived more lives in one lifetime than most people lived in their entire time on earth.

 

“Not at all. Very nice to meet you, Mr. Greenwood.” She smiled and shook his hand.

 

“Likewise, Miss Vargas.” Harry smiled and felt his stomach drop in anxiety.

 

“Well, I will leave you two to work.” Barker was off.

 

They didn’t speak much that first day. A combination of Harry’s overthinking on how to work with someone new, and Miss Vargas’ travel exhaustion led to silence. She concentrated on her work deciphering a Longfellow poem, and Harry followed up on some leads he received from his Strasbourg contact. She was whisked away for some paperwork half way through the day. She returned as Harry left to meet a local contact.

 

“Goodnight, Mr. Greenwood.” She looked exhausted. Harry felt terrible that her first day in London was as about as anticlimactic and silent as possible.

 

“Have a pleasant night, Miss Vargas.” He smiled and offered his hand again as if to start their meeting again.

 

She shook it, smiled sadly, and returned to her seat and her work.

 

That look of loneliness broke Harry’s heart a bit. An inner yearning to set things right and make sure Miss Vargas was comfortable consumed him on his walk home. Harry rationalized that it must be that if they were work together, they would need to become acquaintances to start in order to gain trust and loyalty towards one another. This assignment could not succeed if they could not reach an understanding and speak to each other.

 

“From a colleague standpoint, it wouldn’t be right to create such an alienation between us. No, I know what to do.”

 

He began baking a pie with the pool of rations he had been saving for a special occasion.

 

The second day, Harry was determined to not have things go awry.

 

By the time he got to the office, Miss Vargas was in the same seat from yesterday already nose deep in calculations and books on Modern German. Harry came in with a stage flourish thinking that would help distract her.

 

No such luck.

 

No, Harry’s theatrical abilities had no affect on Miss Vargas, so he did the next best thing.

 

“You can call me Harry!”

 

He used his stage voice.

 

He blurted out so loudly that it made her jump. He was usually so good at making people feel at ease.

 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to break your concentration. I only meant that since we are going to be working together, there’s no need for formality.” She noticed slight flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

 

“My friends call me Macy. Not that I’m implying that familiarity of friendship. Not that I mean that we wouldn’t be friends either, but we have just met so that’s a leap to take with two people that have known each other for hours. Gee, I’m sorry, I’m still adjusting. The lack of sleep was a doozy.” She looked behind him to her pile of books. It was safer to look at the books and think of the work to do than at the man she barely knew.

 

“You’re fitting in quite well. We do love a bit of a stumble when we speak. How do you feel so far?” Harry smiled and it put Macy at ease.

 

“It’s my first time away from America and it’s very different. My youngest cousin Mercedes would be so happy to see somewhere new and so she’s begged me to take pictures and send them back to her. She’s in school right now.”

 

Harry was touched. Macy had a warmth to her when she spoke of her family. He knew the pain of being separated from your loved ones. They were all gone now. He brushed his memories away. This wasn’t the time to dwell.

 

“I made us an Apple Pie. Hopefully make the homesickness a little lighter?” Harry offered out the pie. She smiled and nodded for a slice. He began to slice the pie and put it on the plate he brought from home. He handed it to her. She took it happily.

 

“Well, I would be happy to suggest some places to visit while you’re here. Some non-tourist diamonds in the rough. Or, I could show you also. Best to see it with a local in case you find yourself in an unfamiliar place where the accent is hard to decipher. Oh, but you are a linguist, you know best of all. What a silly thought.” He looked down as if to shame himself for such a forward and stupid idea.

 

“Oh no! I would love a guide. Especially food. You already have an edge on me there. I can decode anything but a recipe. This is delicious, thank you. That was very sweet of you, Harry.”

 

“It was nothing. I’m glad there is someone to enjoy my cooking aside from the neighborhood stray dog.” She laughed and it was the first joy he felt in years. A true joy that had nothing to do with ramifications of war. Just two people talking about their lives as if nothing brutal was looming in the background.

 

“Well, one day when everything calms down...” Harry paused at the idea that anything would calm down anytime soon.

 

Macy tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. 

 

“What I mean is, when you find yourself situated and able, I would be happy to escort you. Just a thought, anyway, what are you working on? I’ve been informed about the poems?” Harry left the invitation in the air. It was better to focus on why they were there.

 

“Oh it’s Longfellow poem called ‘The Rainy Day.’ There’s something odd about this one and I need to figure out what. Maybe tomorrow we could take a look at it? Something in your background might illuminate what I might be missing. There might be something since this was used in a recent song. Something your contacts might know?” She knew there was something that connected the song and poem. There was a reason they used this specific poem.

 

“Yes, you’re right there’s something in the song that a contact mentioned that I thought was just a passing comment, but...”

 

They looked at it for most of the day, Harry making contact letters, and Macy running through her line by line dissection of it, but no conclusion could have been made that day. They decided to look at it with fresh eyes in the morning.

 

They walked out of the building together.

 

“Harry? Can I take you up on that walk sometime soon?”

 

“I’d be happy to oblige, Macy. Anytime you wish.” They smiled at each other and walked in opposite directions into the fog.

 

Macy returned to her new apartment in the East End with a warmth within her. She knew one person in London now and felt that much less away from Hilltowne and her family.

 

She decided to unwind by taking a bath.

 

“Calica Aqua” she whispered just in case any other tenant could hear through the walls.

 

The water in the tub began to steam. Macy gave a slight nod to herself. Her powers worked just as well six hours ahead. She unwrapped the leftover pie Harry had insisted she take home for herself.

 

Maybe this would be okay and now, in a city as big as London, she could be freer with her magic. Maybe she could find a way to help Mirabel and Nicolette with the resistance. The protection spell would be enough to give her mild peace of mind for now.

 

That would come. For now, this bath, this space, and Harry’s pie were the comfort she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this! It’s wonderful to know people are enjoying this story! Also, this is a weird note, but all the chapter titles are song titles from around the time period (1940’s to 50’s)


	3. The Nearness of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macy and Harry draw closer as the weather turns colder.

As Autumn in London turned into Winter, the city fell into a nervous calm. The holiday season was approaching and the small joys of the trees and the smell of snow invigorated the people on the streets. For once in a long time, Harry’s waking thoughts were of what he was going to get Macy for Christmas instead of his lonely commute to work and back.

 

After weeks of being locked in the office, Harry finally took Macy on her after work walk around the Thames. They started out by talking about surface subjects like the war and their work. Why they ended up in their department far from their origins as an actor and a Masters student. Then, by the differences Macy saw in American versus British culture that caught Harry very off guard by how defensive he became about England. Slowly, they were able to elongate the walks into more sincere and honest conversations about their hopes and their shared pained past.

 

Harry and Macy fell into a mutual habit that managed to come so easily. Both Macy and Harry shared their wary nature of others that was only exacerbated by the nature of their work. Slowly, their after work walks turned into after work dinners which led to late night tea sessions, movies, and attending plays. Harry would find books browsing that he thought Macy would love and turned her empty living room into a library. Macy had the less magical task of killing any spiders that found their way into Harry's flat. His paralyzing fear of bugs would amuse Macy on those cold weekend days as he hid behind his own invisibility cloak of a singular dapper jacket. Macy, for the first time, felt as if she could breathe out a little. Breath by breath, she felt her anxiety exhale the closer her and Harry became. She explained her world away from London. Her dear cousins she loved as if they were sisters, her father raising her alone, and her longing for her mother. Harry noted to never ask her about her mother unless she steered the conversation towards her grief. Her mother was off limits for reasons Harry knew were too graphic to speak of without her consent.

 

Harry, too, left his pain in the air of the river one night. He passed by conversations about the fire that took his mother and father when he was a teenager. Macy felt Harry’s eyes travel back in time when mentioned that he felt the need to raise his brother George, and how he felt he failed him when George ran away to war to escape the banality of his life.

 

“I thought he had everything he needed. I couldn’t give him a reason to live though. He needed more than our flat and our routine. He was 18 when he left. Just a boy.” As Macy put her hand over his, Harry felt the spark of their first meeting. Her comforting touching almost drove him to tears. In that second, he knew he couldn’t deny his feelings as simply platonic anymore.

 

Of course, Harry was still Harry and would rather die than lose her by revealing his silly little feelings to someone as logical and practical as Macy. No, they were friends, and he was grateful for her sunny presence in his life.

  
  
Harry went on a few dates, mostly set ups by his landlady that insisted he find someone quickly. Mrs. Landon had decided that everyone’s business was her business and that Harry’s life was the most tragic. An unmarried man in his 20’s would need to fulfill the needs of a nation at war, and this started on the Home Front. Specifically, Harry’s home life and her approval of a war bride.  
  
“We’ll need babies soon once the war is over. Honestly, Harry. You’re a good lookin’ young man. There’s no reason to be alone.” She would hand him his mail and shake her head. This was her usual hello.

 

Macy, unlike his tragic blind dates, completely became a part of Harry’s life, but Harry did not share that privilege. Macy still was hiding something from him. Harry would look at her and would sense a hesitation. Mira and Mercedes were always a topic of joy, but her parents were often a footnote in her history. He decided one day that he would breach the subject she held closest.

 

“You never told me how your parents met.” He had proceeded with caution. He knew that if she had not mentioned this portion of her family’s past, it was for a reason. The answer must have been carried with sorrow.

 

 _“She was a witch and he was a warlock that turned mortal until they were forced apart by her death._ ” She wanted to scream at him to release the pain of her seeing her mother die in her father’s arms, but she just shrugged.

 

“It’s not that interesting of a story, Harry.” She gave him a broken smile that made him ache with regret for asking her in the first place.

 

“What are you two talking about?” Sutherland came over with two pints after tagging along, and Macy couldn't have been more grateful to the ginger cad.

 

“How you’re paying for this round.” Harry smiled at Macy while pointing at Sutherland. He knew to let it lie where it stood.

* * *

 

  
“I noticed that Harry comes ‘round often. You know Mr. Verity talks and says he’s not good enough for ya. I think you have two blokes waitin’ in the wings.” Her next door neighbor Stella Armitage danced along the apartment to a song on the radio as she glanced to see if Macy had a reaction. She was a girl of 18 who had been on her own for years after her father died and her mother couldn’t afford to keep her and her 10 siblings. She had been working at a manufacturing factory in the East End ever since. Macy had befriended her over a leaked pipe that they both fixed after being soaked to the bone and causing a mild flood. She had seen some of Mercedes in Stella and her heart took her in.  
  
“What are you implying, Stella?” Macy sternly stared at her    
  
“You’re more into books than any man around, but that posh fellow looks at you like he’s in a movie.” Stella also shared Mercedes’ more annoying qualities that were not quite as missed.

 

“That’s because Harry was an actor. It’s how he looks at Welsh Rarebit or a well made pie of his. Trust me, it’s not a special look.” She looked back down at her notes on the Longfellow poem.  
  
“I know that look, Miss Macy. It’s the way Bogey looked at Ingrid.” Stella swooned as she fell over the seat and cupped her hands together in a lock. She sighed deeply and blew kisses at Macy.

  
“I’ll ask Harry to give you some acting lessons, Ella.” She smiled that Stella was able to hold on to some romance during all the trials of the war.

 

Stella noticed that Macy blushed that day when she looked at a note Harry had written her that was stashed away in her papers. It contained absolutely zero romance. Just a note on the etymology of a word, but the way she looked at it made Stella realize that Harry’s feelings were somewhat reciprocated. She stopped teasing Macy knowing her fear would keep her from moving forward if there was any risk of her complicating a happy arrangement.

 

For all Macy knew, she was here until the War ended and she’d be back on a ship to the States. She would be back at Hilltowne University and back to her life being the anomaly. The first woman to do this, being offensively called a "credit" to her race, and the continued battle of her life to be seen as herself instead of a experiment. It was enough navigating her life without the added pain of hiding her magic. Her family were the only people she allowed herself to get close to aside from the occasional work friend and friends of her cousins. Her anxiety over dating caused her to over analyze her choice of date to the point where she would be paralyzed. Then the war came, and everything seemed so small in comparison.

 

Her cousins would make sure Macy wouldn’t worry as much as her mind would let her. Mirabel would make sure to send signs that she was safe. A bluebird would fly past Macy on her walks with Harry most every night. Mercedes would send poppies to grow in Macy’s garden box even in the dead of Winter. Macy would send calls to the wind to have her cousins hear her longing for them.

 

 _I miss you both so much and the only thing that brings me comfort are the signs you send me. I never thought I would long for Hilltowne, but it means all of us together celebrating Christmas and drinking coquito together. Mira, it’s been days. Please send me sign that you and Nicolette are okay. I get word everyday of more resistance fighters being captured, and I am fearful the protection spell can only do so much._ _  
_

  
Macy’s magic grew stronger the more time she had to craft. When Harry wasn’t there or Stella was at work, she would write spells and try to make potions to create a safe passage for refugees or ideas on how to help Mira with her underground work. She noticed her telekinetic power increased once she was able to practice with the noise of the city around her. Macy had developed a confidence in her magic by not having to fear the nosy neighbors of Hilltowne. She could only erase her hometown acquaintances’ minds, thanks to Mercedes’ neglect, so much before they became too suspicious. Here, a blown spell, Macy’s mind practice, or a loud windy noise could be explained by the millions of other souls or by the war.

 

Harry almost discovered her secret. He showed up with a grin and set of ingredients while Macy was brewing the Call to the Wind potion of belladonna and sage.

 

“You never have anything in this house, and I wanted to change that. Also, my oven is broken for the day, and I had a brilliant idea.” His green eyes were doing that puppy dog look that Macy couldn’t resist.

 

“What a great idea, Harry. One second, I was doing the wash. There’s...umm... things everywhere.” Her nose crinkled with the word “things” knowing Harry’s weakness for proper procedure.

 

The suggestion of the “things” lying around made Harry blush and stutter that he would wait outside until she gave the all clear.

 

Macy ran around the flat and tried to hide as much as she could. She thought she had gotten everything.

 

As Harry started muddling around the kitchen, she realized she hadn’t hidden the belladonna. Her eyes widened as she jumped from her seat and raced to see Harry staring at the container holding the belladonna.

 

“Oh dear, do you have rodents? You know there are less potent and dangerous methods of removal?”

 

She scoffed a little too loudly.

 

“Are you alright?” Harry raised his eyebrow.

 

“Yes! No, I know what I’m doing, Greenwood. Belladonna will kill them instantly rather than arsenic. They might travel into areas where they’ll die and...rot. I don’t want it to get to that point.” There was nothing more disarming to Harry than Macy out processing him and using his last name. She rarely did it, but it charmed him every time.

 

“Well then. Shepherd's pie?”

 

* * *

  
Sutherland noticed it immediately, and was less tactical about the subject. He would tease Harry about it, but wouldn’t dare mention it in front of Macy. One, he admired her too much and two he was worried he would embarrass her or an untrustworthy loose lipped colleague would misinterpret a blossoming connection.

 

“Christ Harry. For all your intelligence, you can be such an arse so much of the time. If you don’t ask Macy to a proper dinner, I will. And you will not be able to win her back if that happens.” He looked out of the corner of his eye to Harry to see if that caused a reaction of any kind in him. Harry’s training had taught him well and he kept his feelings internal. Admitting anything to Sutherland was more dangerous than just gossip in the office. They could take the project they had poured their souls into away, or worse. He couldn’t bare the thought of Macy being sent back to America over a slip of the tongue.

  
  
“Come off it, Sutherland. Macy and I are too busy to deal with something like that. She doesn’t look at me that way. We are friends. I will say, I do deeply admire her and find her magnificently...”

 

Sutherland had enough. He was three sheets to the wind at this point and was exhausted by the months long Harry and Macy tango.  
  
“And she’s lovely and beautiful and makes the world go round. Yes, yes I know you’re deeply in love with her, and too bloody proper to do anything about it. But one day, this war will be over, and she’ll fall into some other chap’s arms or go back to America and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. And I don’t want to hear about it when you’re married to some very sweet, but not Macy woman that you settle for waiting for her to run back here and declare her love when you know that’s not her character.”  
  
Harry glared at Sutherland and narrowed his eyes. He had hit a nerve.

 

“Maybe get yourself some water, mate. You’re out of sorts.” Harry threw his money at Sutherland and walked away with a pit of anger in his stomach. He decided to take a walk and found himself halfway to Macy’s.

 

"What am I doing?" he scolded himself. 

 

He was in his head thinking about all the terrible ways this could end. Macy upset that he would dare fall in love with her. Macy leaving on a ship away to America to be continue her real life. A happier memory snuck into his brain. Macy looking through her books and notes. Macy smiling at him after she decoded another poem.

 

 _“It’s more than you think_ ”

 

He stopped in his tracks.

 

Macy was in her apartment looking over notes that night when she decided to look at the poem for the thousandth time. She was driving herself crazy running line by line to see that there was anything she missed. She groaned as she thought about the fun night she was missing out on. She should have gone out with Harry and Sutherland for drinks and had a laugh at them bickering instead of drowning in stanzas and cold tea.  
  
_The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;_  
_It rains, and the wind is never weary;_  
_The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,_  
_But at every gust the dead leaves fall,_  
_And the day is dark and dreary._  
  
_My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;_  
_It rains, and the wind is never weary;_  
_My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,_  
_But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,_  
_And the days are dark and dreary._  
  
_Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;_  
_Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;_  
_Thy fate is the common fate of all,_  
_Into each life some rain must fall,_  
_Some days must be dark and dreary._  
  
“This can’t be it. The scheme seems wrong. Almost..”  
  
Macy frantically ran into the kitchen and sent a call through the wind to Mercedes and Mirabel. She bundled sage and belladonna into a goblet and poured water into it. It began to steam and shriek into the night.

  
_It’s not a decoded message. I think there’s a witch or a demon involved. Harry thinks it’s a regular decoded poem and I’m nervous we’re about to be led into something where I’ll have to tell him the truth about me. Or worse, he’ll be put in danger. Mercedes, what does the Book of Shadows say about witches in wartime? Have they used messages as spells? Please help!”_

  
She waited for the call back when she heard a crazed knock on her door. She feared what was on the other side. It could be a demon waiting to kill her, or a witch waiting to destroy her memory of the poem. Her hairs stood on the back of her neck.

  
She opened the door to find Harry huffing from running up the stairs. Her looked her straight in the eye.

  
“Macy! I know what the poem is!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos and the positive feedback! I think it'll be a bit for the next chapter, but I hope not too long!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! First time writing like this, so we shall see where it goes.


End file.
